She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. "But it won't do. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door.
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